


Last Call

by neveranswersjustquestions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Elliott Smith, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveranswersjustquestions/pseuds/neveranswersjustquestions
Summary: Draco ends up in a place where no one would think to look for him.That was his intention.His intention was not to ruin life.Ah, how cruel Fate can be.(In which Draco goes through his very own Renaissance)(Also it's 2016)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever work, just me having some fun and writing what I would love to read. Leave comments if you want!

The summer before Third Year, Draco Malfoy ended up in a place no one would’ve ever thought to look for him. 

This was, of course, his intention.

Earlier that day, his Father had berated him once again for ending up lower than the Mudblood, Hermione Granger. She had gotten first place amongst their year in terms of grades. 

Draco came in second. 

It had been the number one conversation topic for him, coming in hot over the usual rant about the mere presence of Muggles and Mudbloods in this world. Never mind that Muggleborns rarely ever did anything threatening to the Malfoys, let alone Muggles, who didn’t even know of their existence. Perhaps last year things would’ve been fine and Draco would have enjoyed his Father’s speeches, but seeing as the bigger part of his angry belligerent words were now turned against him, Draco was not very happy. See, last year, there wasn’t a ranking for the whole year yet, so even though Draco himself knew he must have come in second (loath as he was to admit it) he had been able to keep this knowledge from his parent. 

Draco was used to a proud Father, someone who loved him (even if he might not say it that often), someone who believed his son would make him proud, do right by the Malfoy name. He was also used to a proud Mother, one who loved him unconditionally and told him so. These days his Mother was withdrawn. It appeared she had chosen Father’s side. Well, snuffed Draco, good riddance. Safe to say that he was angry. Angry at his parents, angry at their stupid wrong ideas that seemed to paint him in a terrible light, angry at the stupid Dark Lord for not just getting rid of the Mudbloods and instead settling Draco with this stupid problem. Angry at stupid Hermione Granger (less stupid than you! The mean voice in his head would chide) Angry at the Basilisk too, that couldn’t finish the job either. 

He was, for all intents and purposes, done. He felt like rebelling against his stupid Father who didn’t understand anything. 

So that’s how he ended up in a Mawl, in a Muggle record store (apparently they had records? Draco’s running theory was that Muggles had been stealing the records from unsuspecting wizards). Apparently his accidental magic had activated once again, Apparating him exactly where he wanted to be. He gave his magic a pat on the back.

(Draco wasn’t aware an eerily similar thing was happening over in Privet Drive to his dear, dear friend Harry Potter) 

As luck would have it, he had landed in a corner few people ventured, something about “Country Music”? Draco was only vaguely aware that English Muggles had some sort of national song, perhaps this was a collection of anthems? Strangely, a lot of weird hats and leather pant things featured. Draco decided not to mull on it too much. Just Muggles, he supposed. Though now that Draco was here and had had a chance to look around a bit, he was a bit, maybe a lot, surprised. It seemed Muggles were not rolling around in the dirt. An apparent shop clerk came walking towards him, wearing one of those jeans Potter always wore when not in uniform. However, these seemed to actually fit the clerk. Stupid Potter, can’t even get his pant size right! (Draco decisively did not think about the fact that he did not know his pant size either, for his Mother took care of his wardrobe).

The clerk had now approached him, a relatively young man who looked rather nice (a Hufflepuff, if he could be). “Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?” Apparently the rumour that Muggles could only produce pig noises was in fact not true. Draco had only seconds to come up with a safe answer. Thankfully, he was wearing slacks and a nice Slytherin sweater, which had not raised the clerk’s suspicions. “Yes, hello, I- er. Well, you see I was- uhm.” Very eloquent, befitting a Malfoy of course. “You can just chill here for a while if that’s what you want” The clerk asked, motioning to a worn down couch next to a bookcase. Draco did not know who that he wanted, but oh well. “Yes. Most certainly. That is why I came. Definitely.” The clerk seemed to be amused. Strange Muggles. Draco went to sit just when a new song started up. “This one’s from this guy Elliott Smith, he did completely different stuff than the rest, it’s bonkers, I love it” It seemed the clerk thought he gave a shit. Draco stayed silent and just listened.

“He could be cool and cruel to you  
Knew we’d put up with anything”

And then he kept listening. Different songs came on, all from this new record. Condor Ave, 

“Now I’m picking up to put away anything of yours that’s still around  
I don’t know what to do with your clothes or your letters  
It’ll make a whisper out of you”

Some songs lacking a name, some more songs.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?  
No and I don’t care who.” 

Last Call? 

“Trying crawl under my skin when I already shed my best defence  
It comes out all around that you won  
And I think I’m all done  
You can switch me off safely  
While I’m lying here waiting for sleep to overtake me”

Draco was shocked. Flabbergasted. Aghast. Stunned. Amazed. Never in his life had he heard anything like this. It seemed- well. It seemed the basic truths of the Universe had just been overturned. His hands trembled as a sweat broke out. 

Could they be wrong? 

Sure, previously Draco had had some personal doubts, but all that could easily be discarded. If a time ever came, Draco would gladly kill some Muggles, easily, no compunctions about it, just a flick of the wrist. Right? But not anymore. Oh. Not anymore. Something had shifted within Draco. Between the lyrics bounding around in his head-

“They never get uptight when a moth gets crushed,  
Unless a lightbulb really loved him very much”

-it seemed he had royally fucked up by coming here. What looked like some good old rebelling, pissing his Father off, maybe getting a reaction out of Mother, had instead ruined his life. He was not the same Draco Malfoy that appeared in this record shop an hour ago. The clerk’s voice shook him out of his stupor. “You okay mate?”. No, he was not okay. “Yeah, Roman candle is fucking batshit.” Supposedly Draco had said his part out loud. “You interested in a copy?”

Five minutes later, record in a bag on his arm, The New Draco walked out of the shop, into the Mawl. Lots of Muggles seemed to be milling around the place, going in and out of shops and chatting about things he did not understand. (This threw Draco off balance further, for he had not thought Muggles were capable of conversations, let alone ones that he could not decipher). It seems that he looked so visibly shaken a girl came up to him. “You okay?” She sounded American. Draco could not bring himself to speak. The girl caught on and ushered him to a bench next to weird moving stairs. She sat with him for the next few minutes, silent but tapping and swiping on a strange device. She was moving a guy on train tracks, who was being followed by a guy with a hound. It did not seem real. It occurred to Draco that he might be having a stroke. The girl noticed his staring. “Subway Surfers.” Once again, the stroke idea came to mind. He did not know what a subway was, what a surfer was, and he did not understand what on earth the concept would have to do with the strange movements on her screen.

“‘K ben Willemijn.” She said (Not in English? Was it Dutch? Draco did not speak Dutch. Well. Her earlier words gave the impression that she spoke English so;). “I’m Draco.” He replied. “Your parents were dragon fans?” “No!” Draco was appalled. “As in the constellation!” He bristled. “Ok. Thats cool too.” This Muggle girl certainly had some audacity. (If his Mother had called him her little dragon when he was younger, Draco did not share that with Willemijn.)

There was a beat of silence. “So are you good?” He had not lost his crazy streak just yet, so he decided to reply truthfully. “I had a fight with my Father so my accidental magic landed me in a record store where I listened to a few songs and now my life is over. Who knew Muggles aren’t like what they said? If I had just stayed at the Manor none of this would have happened. Luna would have done away with my Wrackspurts. Why didn’t I go to her instead? Oh, damn me!” Ha, see how she would find a response to that one! Statute of Secrecy be damned, if Draco’s world had to be ruined so did Willemijn’s one!

“Oh. Sure I guess. You talking about magic?”

His plans were foiled again.

“How do you know about that? Aren’t you a Muggle?” “I always had a feeling, but you might just be crazy. Show me some!” She sounded eager. Who was he to deny her? So Draco asked her to take them to a more secluded place and off they went. They were outside the mall in some alley. Bikes were lined up against the walls and they were alone. Draco only knew one wandless spell, and even if he wanted to anger his Father, expulsion did not seem like the way to go, so no wandwork for him.

“Wingardium Leviosa” He muttered. The leaves in the alley started flying, then fell again. There was a sharp intake of breath next to him.

“Oh. Wingardium Leviosa” the leaves started levitating again.

Draco threw up his hands, exasperated. As if he hadn’t had enough today, now instead of just Muggles he was also meeting a Muggleborn. A powerful one at that. Fuck. He turned. “So you’re a Muggleborn?” She replied, looking a little wide-eyed “If Muggles are people that can’t do magic and Muggleborns can but didn’t know then yeah, I guess I am.” Hmm. So she was smart. “You’re a Muggleborn because your parents are Muggles. Mine are wixes. “So I’m disadvantaged? Perhaps even a discriminated against minority? How was I even supposed to find out? We’re just left to our own devices? Am I an exception?” Didn’t beat around the bush either. Well. Draco liked efficiency. 

“You are disadvantaged and oppressed. You were supposed to get a letter from school when you were eleven, so it seems you are an exception.”

“Oh. Figures. Is there a hierarchy? Is one wix raised by wixen better than another?” Awareness of social structures. Willemijn was quickly growing on Draco. “I am a pureblood, meaning my parents and all my ancestors going back hundreds of years are all wixen. There’s also halfbloods, who have one magical parent and one non-magical parent. Or a Muggleborn parent.” She cut in, “How does that math work? Do two Muggleborn parents count as halfblooded? Is a Muggle zero and a Muggleborn a quarter? Wouldn’t that make a Muggleborn and a pureblood three-quarters? What about a halfblood and a pureblood? Does that make three-quarters as well? Or is it pureblood again? When does one start counting as pureblood? Do wixen ever have Muggle babies? Your system appears to lack sense.” She concluded. “It’s not really about sense.”

Though she did make a good argument. It was more evidence that his entire life was based on silly traditions and grudge-holding ancestors. Great. Awesome. “So who should I write to? To get a wixen card or whatever it is?” “Write to Minerva McGonagall, she usually handles this stuff. You’ll get into my school, Hogwarts. It’s great. There’s threats on everyone’s lives every year and incompetent teachers all around. Still better than Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. Or maybe you should go to Ilvermorny, if you’re American.” The thought saddened him a little. Willemijn was rather interesting. He lifted his record out of the bag “Do you know this Elliott Smith fellow? He changed my life.” Her eyes brightened. “Hell fuckin yeah I do! Best musician since the Beatles!!” Very interesting then. “Well, you have to go to Hogwarts. It’s decided. You have to sort Slytherin too, or I won’t forgive you.” She laughed at that. “Sure. As soon as I figure out what all that means. Do you have an email?” Draco patiently explained owls to her, to which she had a counter, a much faster one apparently. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, but getting this whole email thing to his house seemed rather insurmountable. They decided on owls. Willemijn told him about her town in the Netherlands, Deventer, and gave him her address. Draco promised to write, and before he knew it, she was off. Now he was alone again, this time with the prospect of a summer in the Manor with his parents. His parents. Right. The ones who taught him everything he knew. All that he didn’t really believe anymore. Great. Awesome.

Perhaps Potter had momentarily possessed his Strings Of Fate, to make Draco’s life harder even in his absence.


	2. Chapter 2

The last few weeks at the Manor had been… interesting. Luckily for him, Draco was a good liar. After his short rebellious venture into the Muggle world, to a Mall (Willemijn had corrected him, to his own embarrassment) it seemed his Father had been scared straight. He and his Mother both had been beside themselves with worry and Draco had used that to his own advantage, managing to evade all the questions concerning his whereabouts without raising too much suspicion. The rants from his Father had calmed down and Mother was speaking to him again. Improvement, clearly his decision to leave had been a good one. (Of course it was, Draco thought of it after all. Mentioning the catastrophic impact the trip had on his life was most certainly not necessary.) There was however, still a problem. A rather big one at that. His correspondence with Willemijn had been kept secret, but there were a few close calls. Draco suspected his Parents thought he was dating someone and far be it from him to discourage the notion. The winks Father kept sending him were embarrassing though. Where was his sense of decorum?? 

In her letters, Willemijn told Draco about everything and anything Muggle. He’d learned about tvs, what country music actually was (deplorable, except for that song about some state in the US. Willemijn called them incestuous rednecks), pop culture (Draco found a lady called Caroline Calloway thoroughly entertaining), social media (he was damn near fluent in something called Twitter. The other day Mother had asked his opinion on a new dress. Draco had told her the dress had tea. It was a confusing moment for the both of them.) and all kinds of other stuff. Willemijn had sent him some more Elliott Smith records. Currently XO’s Pitseleh was Draco’s favourite. Convincing his Parents that Smith was in fact not Muggle, but simply American had been a lot easier than expected. They seemed to think the Americans were rather simple and did not question the lyrics. Still, he listened in his room, where he could safely cast muffling charms, cloaked my the Manor’s magic that could not be penetrated my the Ministry. Sometimes the music felt like a lifeline, a reminder of what he believed now. He’d thankfully seen Willemijn in person, once, when she’d gone to Diagon Alley. They hadn’t had much time, and Draco had realised how terribly he had missed her. He marvelled at how fast they’d become great friends. Maybe it was fate.

Draco couldn’t be the person he used to be in the future, nor did he want to. He might still think Slytherin was the best house and Gryffindors had some horribly annoying traits, but he also realised he was completely biased in his opinion. Willemijn had helped him too. She taught him about concepts like Objective Truth, and why she didn’t believe in it. He’d read some books on philosophy too. He fancied himself somewhat of a changed person. 

So he needed a plan.

Spun on by his new morals, he decided he was not going to act as though he was unchanged. First he needed some allies for when he returned to Hogwarts, since his conversion might come as a shock, or be seen as illegitimate by some. Willemijn had been accepted into Hogwarts and had been on a fast track summer program to catch up for Third Year. With some tutoring from Draco on the side, he felt confident in her abilities. She would be an ally, but she might not sort Slytherin and it wouldn’t be enough anyway.

Contrary to popular belief, Slytherin’s weren’t wrapped up in politics all the time. In their House, in the safety of their lounge room, it just wasn’t that serious. Slytherin unity was always going to be more important than whatever conflict was raging on outside anyway. There was no constant power struggle or hierarchy. They fought sometimes, but they were family. Contra mundum. Point is, Draco knew Pans would have his back. Blaise, Theo and the Fearsome Twosome too. He would also need to inform Luna, of course. Best get to work.

Dearest Pansy, light of my life, fire in my loins, my everything,

Within the contents of this fine letter I am bringing you something I know you always desire, day and night, rain or shine. Gossip.

That’s right! You, my favourite wench, are getting the scoop of the year, nay, century! 

I’m switching sides. 

A few weeks ago I semi-accidentally Apparated to a Muggle shopping establishment. I heard some music there, and Pans, it was life changing. You’ll find a record enclosed. Other than my life being changed by music, I also met a Muggle, who turned out to be a Muggleborn. Who can do wandless charms. I hate her, she’s terrible. Dutch, too. Horribly blunt, no sense of decorum, and she can be as mean as Snape on one of Longbottom’s bad potioneering days. (You’ll love her). She’s coming to Hogwarts too, so we’ll all have to be great friends. She might end up a Ravenclaw, so I’m telling Luna about this too. Also our other friends. Anyway. I can’t hate Muggles anymore, nor Muggleborns. I’m starting an initiative to get Granger to study with me this year. Perhaps I can sneakily slither my ways into the top spot of the year (doubtful. Oh! You see Pans! I Am A Changed Man, who has discovered God’s gift to our mortal plane (muggle expression!!), self deprecation as humour!). I’ll have to apologise to her for my previous words, but that can be done. I’ve been reading a lot about philosophy too. I should’ve listened when you recommended those books last year, my apologies. 

I’m getting off track again. I haven’t told the Parents yet. That’s the scary part. 

I’ll require your help with PR. I want my switching of sides to be a statement, a path other Slytherins could also walk. My fear is that everyone will just see it as a joke, think I’m up to some nefarious plot, or, worst of all, not pay any attention to me at all. 

(I know I’m assuming you’ll just be along for the ride. It’s just that I don’t think I could go through it without you. Say yes?)

Love,

Your dear friend Draco

Friends of mine! An Announcement follows!

Dear Blaise, Theo, Greg and Vince. 

Due to recent life changing events, I have decided to take a stance against the Dark Lord, nay, Volde-. Well, baby steps. You-Know-Who. You’ve heard it here first. I, Draco Malfoy, of sound mind and core, do hereby declare that I am no longer bowing down to our elusive, rumoured to be snake-faced, evil overlord. And I very much hope you’re all along for the ride. This’ll all be very public of course. Pans is working on a Redemption Arc as we speak. I’ve also made a Muggleborn friend, she’ll be joining us at Hogwarts this year. The Times They Are a-Changin’. Potter won’t know what hit him. Will he reject my hand this time around, you think? Perhaps not, if I manage to stick to Pansy’s plan. Seeing as I have not yet informed my Parents of the matter, please refrain from contacting Skeeter. My PR Manager will handle that.

I would hate for us to be at odds over such a silly thing as rising political tension that might erupt in war. (I’d miss you all dearly.)

Your friend, Draco

Just as Draco was gearing up to write to Luna, her cockatoo appeared on the windowsill, screeching as per usual. It seemed Luna was still several steps ahead of him. He opened her letter.

Hello Draco!

The Wrackspurts have vacated the premises in your brain! Only a few stragglers remain, congratulations. I doubt your new friend will be bringing many ‘spurts into my House. I have faith she won’t string up my shoes. We’ll bond over people mispronouncing our names, I’m sure. 

See you!

Ah. That was settled then. Willemijn going to Ravenclaw (Luna’s premonitions often prove correct) saddened him. Still, he was pretty sure he was the only other Elliott Smith fan in Hogwarts, so she still needed him. Well, time to send her some more books, to keep her loyal and caught up of course. Draco had been having a positively lovely daydream of Willemijn being more powerful than Potter and beating him in DADA. She had turned out to be a fair bit more like Potter than Draco would’ve liked. She too was rather bad at lengthy revision (though she always knew the information anyways, much to his frustration). 

(And sometimes, just for a moment, she looked just as lost as Potter sometimes did. It made his heart clench a little) 

(On one horrible instance, his brain had decided a dream of Harry being Draco’s best friend was appropriate for the night. When he had startled awake, he pretended with all his might it had been a nightmare)

-

Two weeks later, the end of summer had come. He was at the platform, with Mother and Father. All looking severe and rich of course. (Since reading up on political theory, Draco now felt a bit disgusted with himself for ever making fun of the Weasley’s lack of money and a bit disgusted with how rich his family was. He did not say this out loud, and if he’d begun paying some of the house elves with his pocket money no one needed to know.) The train pulled into the station and when his trunk had been taken care of, he turned to his Parents and handed them a letter, exclaimed “Goodbye!” And hopped on the train before they had a chance to properly react. 

Dear Mother, dear Father,

Remember when I ran away? I went to a Muggle place, semi-on-purpose. It changed my life. The secret person I’ve been corresponding with is a Muggleborn who will be joining me at Hogwarts this year. She’s brilliant and already one of my best friends. Suffice to say I cannot agree with your politics, Parents, nor will I pretend to. I simply can’t. I want you to know that I am sorry, not for changing my mind, but for not being the son you hoped to have. I hope your mind’s will also be changed, but I shan’t hope too much. Please let me know if I am disinherited, so that I can begin looking for a place to stay next summer.

Your loving (and hopefully still) Son,

Draco

He did not look out the window, back at the platform once in a compartment. Thankfully, Willemiijn was there. They’d agreed on a meeting place beforehand, but seeing her was still a relief. He’d been half scared she’d decide to ditch him and Hogwarts. “Hey Kneus.” She said. Willemijn had told Draco this was an endearing nickname for smart people in Dutch. “Hey Will.” They hugged fa little too tight for a little too long. All horribly embarrassing and never to be spoken of again. “I have something for you!” She took a rectangular package out of her bag. “Your phone!” Draco immediately leaped at the package. Earlier this summer he had sent Willemijn money to get him one after her recommendations of the thing. It was an iPhone 6s, in a dignified grey colour. She had informed him this was a Good Phone, one with a Good Camera. “Watch this.” She screwed her eyebrows in concentration. 

“To use it well, not make a mess, charge this phone and make it last!” 

The phone immediately came alive as the screen lit up. It greeted him and Draco squealed in delight. (No, I didn’t! Stop pretending I squealed Will!) They spent the next hour setting up his phone and then taking copious amounts of selfies. Using the Snapchat camera of course, since the regular camera turns the picture around (Draco knew all this stuff. He was very proud). Then Pansy barged in, with all the others in tow. She barely glanced at him before turning her eyes on Willemijn. She looked rather like a fox in that moment. A very sly one. “Hello. You must be Willemijn! I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Pansy Parkinson!” She stuck out her hand and Willemijn took it. “It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m hoping for Slytherin.” That seemed to do the trick. Everyone started making themselves comfortable, talking miles and miles about their summer. Pansy glanced at Will sometimes, with a calculating look in her eye. Then she turned to Draco. “I’ve got a plan. It’s flawless.” He grinned. “Of course it is, it’s a Pansy Plot.” She swatted him. “I wish you’d stop using that deplorable name.” But she was smiling too, looking fond, so she was a dirty rotten liar. Step one was apologising to as many people as possible and then immediately introducing them to Will, a manoeuvre meant to throw them off.

Draco was very grateful to have his friends with him. The relief was a bit overwhelming. His eyes most certainly did not water for a moment. 

After a round of introductions and Will babbling something about icebreakers, whatever that was, Granger opened the door to their compartment. She looked confused, as if she meant to open another door. Draco seized the moment. “Granger!” She startled. “I wanted to apologise. What I said last year was awful. I’m glad you didn’t die. You’re rather brilliant and it would’ve been a loss.” She looked positively shell-shocked, but before she could say something he started up again. “This is Willemijn, she’s new this year. She’s Dutch!” Willemijn just rolled her eyes and then smiled at Granger. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you for your apology I suppose.” She said. “And nice to meet you, I’m Hermione Granger.” She still looked a bit off-kilter, but was improving fast. “D’you want to sit with us?” Greg said. Another pause. “That’s fine, thanks for the offer but I should get going.” She smiled a polite smile though. A definite win. Draco could see the #1 spot in his mind’s eye already. 

When their compartment suddenly turned cold as ice they all huddled together, everyone reassuring Willemijn that they usually did not have such troubles with temperature regulation. She grumbled a bit about AC problems. It passed, and then they were at Hogwarts. “Next year we’ll figure out a way to sneak onto a boat.” Draco whispered to Willemijn, who was somewhat shocked into silence by the castle. He felt a bit giddy, knowing that he had introduced her to their world. She smirked and linked their arms. 

Off they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter! Side note, I am not really aware of the grammatical rules concerning brackets, if it really bothers you, please educate me. How are you liking the story so far? Any notes? How was your day? Let me know, down below :)


End file.
